What I Was and What I Am
by Lucifugee
Summary: The moment were everything changed for Alex Coburn. What he was and what he is. One-Shot


My name is Alex Coburn, I was a soldier, a loving son, and soon to be loving husband

Black and White, right and wrong, good and evil. These were the principles on which I was raised.

My mother would read to me when I was young, stories of hero's and damsels, and villains and happy endings. The hero was brave and good, and the villain cowardly and evil. The hero would defeat the villain and save the day and get the girl and everyone was happy. I grew up, and lived on the basis of right and wrong.

I loved for the first time when I was 16. Her name was Kathleen McHugh. She was beautiful, smart, funny, and a whole bunch of other things that I can't think of right now. She was perfect and she loved me. We spent every spare moment together, we talked for hours, we held each other and did other activities I won't go into detail about. I proposed to her before I was shipped out and she said yes. I was the happiest I've ever been in my life, I didn't realize then that I would never be as happy as I've been then again.

I was 20 when I enlisted for the army, it was my dream, to be that hero, to help the innocent and defeat the evil. War had quickly disabused me of that ridiculous fantasy.

I killed for the first time when I was 22.

We were in Iraq, I was traveling with two of my sqaud mates and our Colonel. We were sperated from the sqaud and we were making our way back to was soon upon us we made camp in the middle of a long abandoned town. The land was desolate and barren, long cracks covered the dry ground. In the middle of the town was a was what was was presumably the town square, a battered and dry well lay in the center, and surrounding the square were broken down wood ed huts. We made camp between two houses on the edge of the square. As we began to eat a man suddenly jumped out from behind a broken wall AK-47 in his hand and pointed at us.

"Give me your food, put down your weapons and give me your food" he screamed at us. There were four of us, we got up and raised our hands over our heads.

"Alright, Alright, you can take what you want, and be on your way" said the Colonel trying to defuse the situation before anyone got killed. He motioned for us to step away slowly. The man moved to take the food.

Then Matthews sneezed.

It was unthinkable that a harmless cold would lead to what happened in the next few minutes

It all happened so fast.

The crazed man , surprised by the noise, jumped back and pulled his AK up to shoot. In one swift motion I pulled out my side arm and emptied three rounds into his chest.

Everything seemed to slowed down. I felt the gun bucking in my hands three times as I pulled the trigger. I saw each bullet hit his chest. I saw him jerk backwards from the force. I saw a mist of blood spraying out of the holes in his chest into the cold night air. His arms came down and the slightly rusted AK-47 tumbled out of his hand as his grip loosened. His body fell backward hitting the ground with a soft thump as dust flew a few inches into the air from the force of the impact

My heart was hammering against my chest, my breath coming out rapidly a because of the adrenaline running through my veins, and even though my ears were ringing from the sound of the gun I could hear the faint clinking noise as three shells hit the ground.

Smoke curled around the barrel of the gun as I brought it down.

I walked over to the man I shot and looked down; I saw his eyes full of fear, regret, and desperation. He was a thin man, incredibly thin, hollow cheeks and large bags under his eyes. His lips were dry and crusty. I could see the vague outline of ribs through his thin shirt.

"P-please" he gasped out "I was just hungry" he coughed out blood and with his final breath pleaded to me "h-help me".

Those were the last words he spoke before his eyes glazed over and his body went limp.

I stood there for a few moments just looking down at the man I had killed

This wasn't right, the man I killed was supposed to be evil, and he was supposed to be the bad guy.

I did the right thing, I had to shoot, and he was going to shoot us. We were the good guys. I did the right thing.

Then why didn't I feel like a hero?

Why did I feel regret?

Why were my hands trembling?

Why were there tears in my eyes?

Colonel came up to me and put his hand on my shoulder. I jumped slightly at the contact to engrossed in my thoughts. I turned and looked at him, he stared back at me looking pensieve.

He turned back to my sqaud mates and ordered them to clean up and be ready to move in twenty minutes. He led me away from the camp.

He took out a small flask, popped the cap and drank, he passed to me. I looked him questioningly.

"Drink it boy" he grunted.

And I did, I always followed orders. I put the flask on my lips and took a deep drink. The whiskey seared my throat on the way down.

"That was your first kill." It wasn't a question.

I didn't answer I just stood there unable to string my thoughts into coherent words. I drank the rest of the whiskey.

"Everythings different know" he said"When someone takes a life for the first time it changes them "

Again i didn't answer, i just looked ahead, whiskey flask held in m hand

He turned his head and looked at me "But it's up to you to decide how it changes you, you either let it destroy you or you keep on going"

I looked at him, his words ringing in my head. My hands tightened on the flask.

I was a soldier.

A member of the US army.

This is what I was trained for.

"Yes sir Colonel Keller"

So I took everything I was feeling and pushed it down. The regret, the fear, the uncertainty, I pushed them away.

Everything was different then. I didn't know it at the time but at that point I made a choice that would affect the rest of my. When Keller gave me that offer, when I was forced to choose between my Kathleen and my country the choices I made was already predetermined in that day. There are no such thing as fairy tales the hero doesnt defeat the villain and get the girl. There are no such thing as heros and villians, there ware only men and the power they weild.

Its 20 years later. Alex Coburn is dead, there is only John Casey. I thought about that day as I rode on a plane to LA, to my next mission. I thought about everything I was and everything I am. I am not good or evil, what I do isn't right or wrong, and the world isn't black or white. I follow orders; I get the job done nothing more nothing less.

My name is John Casey and I am a spy.


End file.
